


hellfire

by whitesclera



Category: Holostars, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen, Roleswap, roberu has a possessive streak, so do his subordinates, to be fair, where our winning son is a mafia boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29135631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitesclera/pseuds/whitesclera
Summary: It’s a lesson everyone has to learn eventually. Gold means nothing in the face of death.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	hellfire

**Author's Note:**

> based on wonky fanart i made
> 
> https://twitter.com/zurre_/status/1355889219470651399?s=20
> 
> have I mentioned its self indulgent? its entirely self indulgent

Roberu’s grin is all teeth and bloodlust as he forces the man to close his hand over the pieces of broken glass with a firm hold. 

“You’ll tell me, won’t you?” he asks, his voice dipping low as if he’s confiding a secret with a friend, orange and purple eyes laughing at the sheer terror that makes itself known in the weary dips of his victim's face. 

Roberu tightens his grip. The man’s scream rings shrill in the space of the garage and Roberu’s laughter overlaps with the heaving sounds of pain. It’s great, _this is great,_ watching that tight-lipped, snobbish confidence give away inch by painstaking inch the deeper the glass cut into the palm of his hand. Stripping him of his dignity, reducing him to a squealing pig he thought everyone around him to be until he's groveling for sweet, dear mercy that he will never find where Roberu exists.

In the end, he’s no different from the rest of them.

It’s a lesson everyone has to learn eventually. Gold means nothing in the face of death.

“H-He’s being kept in the warehouse by the docks! That’s all… That’s all I know, I don’t know anything else, I swear, I don’t know anything beyond that..." Shakily, he pants, "Please, I beg you, let me go. I-I have my precious twins waiting for me to get home… They need their father!”

Roberu stops. The man exhales as the pressure finally, _finally_ lets up. He gingerly nurses his injured hand, the blood cutting down his arm in vivid red and seeping into the sleeves of his shirt; it's a worthwhile mess if it gets him out alive. 

“Warehouse by the docks,” he repeats. “That ring any bell, Izuru?”

The teen looks up at him from where he’s leaning against a pillar, thumbs tapping away at his console even as he takes the sight in front of him with blatant apathy. The skin under his eyes is dark with exhaustion. It seems the sleeping medications have worn off on him again.

"Yeah." He grunts throatily. “It's within Aruran's territory. I’ll have the coordinates sent to him just in case.”

Roberu smiles. “Good, good.”

Hopeful eyes follow the exchange, his hands held close to his chest in veneration. “Y-Y-You’ll let me go, right? I… I told you everything you need to know!”

Roberu gently pries the man’s fingers away from the glass to take into the surface of his gloved hand. He's shaking in relief, certain that the deal has been sealed and he has been spared with the information now in the Mafioso’s hands. 

Without blinking, Roberu forces his jaw open to slip the glass into his mouth and presses his hand over it to keep it shut. The whisper of a knife leaving its sheath is the man’s only warning before it sinks into the meat of his upper thigh in one sickening squelch. 

A gurgling scream, amplified as the man attempts not to swallow shards of green glass. He thrashes wildly under Roberu's relentless grip, eyes bulging wide and the veins of his throat distinct as blood poured between his teeth and down the corners of his lips, his muted crying echoing with the sound of soft flesh tearing.

“Oh, Roberu-senpai, that’s _brutal,_ ” Kaoru calls. The obscene delight in his eyes contrasts his apparent disapproving tone, however. “I can’t say that I’m not into it. Ah, look at the little piggy. He _wet_ himself. I’d love to be in his place… this side of Roberu-senpai is a rare sight.”

“He’s really pent-up.” A smaller male wearing a foxlike smile giggles beside him, dressed in an intricate Gothic Lolita dress and a parasol in his gloved hands which he tilts at an angle to look at the insomniac standing a few steps behind them. “Hey, can you keep this footage instead of wiping it from the records? I’m sure the others would love to see this.”

Izuru blinks at them lethargically. His lips twist in distaste.

“I wasn’t planning to. I had a feeling you freaks would like it, though I can’t fathom why.” 

“He’s all grown up.” Kaoru chuckles, crossing his hands behind him in a feminine gesture of faux innocence. “Taking the initiative to do things for us without being told by Roberu-senpai. He still has that poor habit of pretending like he’s any better than the rest of us, but I can't say I dislike that part of him."

“I don’t think I’m better.”

A manicured hand dismisses the correction. “You think you’re ‘normal’, which is the same." He smiles sharply. "In truth, you're just as messed up as the rest of us. Have you conveniently forgotten about your long list of black-market transactions? Those girls had families, you know.”

“ _Hah?”_ Izuru straightens from his crouch, finger resting on the switch of his gaming console, his eyes narrowing in anger. "What, do you suddenly feel empathy for them? I thought freaks like you weren't capable of shit like that."

Throwing knives easily slip into slender fingers coated with makeup to hide scars. “You’re a hundred years too early to show me your claws, _little kitty._ ”

"You wanna go?" Izuru growls.

Two gunshots pierce the silence, instantly dispersing whatever tension was building up between them and making them turn to face front. The smile drops from Kira’s face as Roberu rises to his full height, idly wiping at the blood dripping down his cheek.

“Oi, Kaoru.” The man snaps to attention like he’s been whipped. “I avoided hitting his chest. You’ve been asking me about making use of human skin as leather, right? Clean him up. See what you can do with the rest of him.”

Kaoru lowers his head, his long hair spilling over his shoulder from the deep bow. “Understood, Roberu-senpai.”

“Should I call for the car?” Kira asks. 

“Yeah.” He looks down at his front where a few stray droplets of blood landed on the expensive cloth. “And ask someone to get me a change of clothes. This won’t do. First impressions are important." _Especially if it’s the last thing they see._

Kira does a dainty curtsy before doing as he was told, his platform heels clacking with finality in his every step.

With both his companions occupied, Izuru is left to bear witness to the manic grin pulling Roberu’s face taut, madness alight in his eyes as he stepped away from the body to walk towards him, his finger positioned readily over the trigger of the handgun. Agitation is leaking out of him in waves and his movements are predatory. Izuru doesn’t doubt for even a moment that all it takes is for him to speak out of line once before Roberu empties what is left of the magazine into his skull.

The thought makes him smile as he leans into the blood-stained leather of Roberu’s hand, deceptively gentle after everything they witnessed him do to the body now lying unconscious on the ground.

Roberu would set heaven on hellfire if his subordinates asked, and they, too, will return the favor with a loyalty that doesn't waver even with the barrel of his gun placed between their eyes. 


End file.
